


Getting Carried Away

by mithrel



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Shiro (Voltron), Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Galra Keith (Voltron), Grooming, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Showers, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 17:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17126033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: Keith gets hurt while sparring. Shiro makes it better.





	Getting Carried Away

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for @MikelaArts for the 2018 Sheith Secret Santa. Hope you like!

Shiro looks up from the book he’s reading when Keith walks in, then shoots to his feet, alarmed.

“It’s nothing,” Keith says, “I was just sparring.”

“That’s no excuse for–“ Shiro motions to Keith, “– _this!_ ”

Keith’s fur is tangled, sticking up where it’s not slicked down with sweat, and there’s blood matted above his eyebrow.

Shiro knows several of his subordinates look down on Keith, and sneer at Shiro himself for taking up with a Galra, the relations between Daibazaal and Altea uneasy for centuries.

“Who was it?” Shiro demands as Keith limps over to a chair and falls into it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Keith mutters, staring at the ceiling with a groan. “I need a shower.”

But he doesn’t move to get up.

“Keith, who was it? I’ll talk to them–”

“That won’t do any good,” Keith says, showing a bit more energy. “They’ll just think I snitched. Besides, it’s barely a scratch.”

Shiro grimaces. He hates to admit it, but Keith’s right. “Come on, you need a shower.”

Keith groans again as Shiro levers him to his feet and into the bathroom. Shiro favors an old-fashioned water shower, rather than the newer sonic units, and as a commander in the Altean army, he has the clout to get it.

Keith leans against the counter as Shiro turns on the water, waiting for it to get to temperature, then starts stripping off his clothes.

Keith gives a weak smile. “I’m not sure I have the energy for anything like that at the moment,” he quips.

Shiro just rolls his eyes. “You don’t have the energy to clean yourself properly either,” he says, moving over to Keith and taking off his chestplate, “which is why I’m going to do it for you.”

Keith bristles, his hands coming up to bat Shiro’s away. “I’m not a child!”

Shiro’s sighs. “I know you’re not, I just…You gave up so much when you came here. Let me do this for you?”

Keith’s expression softens and he relaxes. Shiro’s glad he doesn’t have the energy to resume the old argument. Keith was an up-and-comer in the Galran army before he fell in love with Shiro, and he moved to Altea over Shiro’s objections.

Shiro steps into the shower, drawing Keith after him, hissing as the hot water touches his skin. There’s a different note to Keith’s groan as the water hits him, something relieved, and Shiro smiles and picks up soap and a cloth.

He starts with the cut over Keith’s eye. Keith flinches as Shiro gently cleans away the matted blood. Keith’s right, it’s just a scratch, already scabbing over.

“Looks like it’s nothing,” Shiro says.

“I _told_ you,” Keith growls.

“Hush,” Shiro says, “You’re filthy.”

He puts down the cloth and picks up the shampoo Keith uses for his fur. Keith leans his head back, humming in pleasure as Shiro massages it into his scalp

Shiro chuckles quietly as Keith’s hum converts into a purr, but doesn’t mention it. Keith will deny to his dying breath that he ever _purrs,_ , and, to be fair, he only does it when he’s feeling safe and relaxed.

Shiro rinses the shampoo from Keith’s scalp and behind his ears, and continues to the shorter fur on his neck and shoulders. It’s less matted here, because of the length, but Shiro spends some time kneading the tight muscles.

Keith groans, leaning his head forward against the tile, chest still rumbling with a purr.

As Shiro pours more shampoo into his hand and moves down to Keith’s back, Keith’s breath hitches and the purr stops.

“You okay?” Shiro asks, parting the soapy fur and trying to see Keith’s skin underneath.

“I’m fine, it’s just a bruise.”

Shiro probes at his back again, finding the edges of the bruise. It’s long and narrow, extending the width of Keith’s back where someone hit him with a staff. It will hurt like hell for a few weeks, but Keith’s right, it’s a bruise, not a broken bone.

“Any other bruises I should know about?”

“One above my knee where I came down badly,” Keith says. “Nothing else.”

And he’s right. Shiro finishes cleaning his back, kneading Keith’s ass for the hell of it, then turns him around.

Keith seems to be feeling a bit better, because he catches Shiro’s mouth in a deep kiss.

Shiro loses his train of thought, as he always does when Keith kisses him, and leans back against the wall, his knees abruptly weak.

Keith chuckles, pulling away and picking up Shiro’s shampoo, massaging Shiro’s scalp in his turn,

Shiro shivers as Keith’s claws skate over his skin, and his own hands move over Keith’s chest, barely remembering to get more shampoo beforehand.

They both lose track of things somewhat after that, but when they get out of the shower, they’re more or less clean, although Keith’s fur is still matted.

The last thing on Keith’s mind is brushing it out, however. He towels off impatiently, letting the warm air of the specially-installed drying area run over him for a grand total of ten seconds, pulling Shiro out of the bathroom the moment his fur isn’t actually dripping.

Shiro follows eagerly, pinning Keith down on the bed. They’re both too worked up for anything fancy. Shiro shimmies down the bed and takes Keith in his mouth, making him hiss “ _Shiro!_ and grab hold of his hair.

Shiro moves up and down, his tongue fluttering in the way he knows Keith likes, and Keith forgets himself enough that his claws prick Shiro’s skin, not quite hard enough to draw blood.

Shiro doesn’t stop though. On the contrary, he’s happy that Keith is enjoying himself so much. His own erection grinds against the sheets, not enough to make him come. Shiro notes it distantly as he gives one last suck and Keith comes down his throat.

Shiro swallows and looks up, grinning, to see Keith lying boneless and satisfied in the bed, as he always does after an orgasm.

Shiro moves up to kiss him and Keith responds enthusiastically for someone who just came not five seconds ago.

Shiro grinds against Keith’s hip, and Keith reaches down to carefully circle his erection, keeping his claws out of the way.

Shiro bucks up into the touch, and Keith only pumps him once or twice before he’s coming too, splattering all over the both of them.

He falls down next to Keith, whose damp, still-tangled fur is now covered with white.

“Ugh, now we need to shower again,” Keith says, but he doesn’t sound too annoyed about it.

Shiro muffles his laugh into the pillow.


End file.
